


One Chance

by TehRevving



Series: Heaven Sent [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood Kink, Blow Jobs, Devil Urges, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, POV Third Person, Rough Sex, Smut, Time Travel, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24177388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TehRevving/pseuds/TehRevving
Summary: A strange demonic artifact sends a young woman crashing onto Dante’s doorstep. She says she’s from the future and seems intent on trying to find a way back to her own time. She seems to know him very well, even in some curious ways that she probably shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t let her bother him, should really just ignore her; but devil’s aren’t really made for restraint, or saying no to things they want.3!Dante x Fem!Reader. Third Person but still a Reader Insert. Handjobs. Blowjobs. Rough Sex. Demonic Urges. Blood.
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s), Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Dante (Devil May Cry)/You
Series: Heaven Sent [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851154
Comments: 23
Kudos: 236





	One Chance

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea and it simply would not leave my head. It’s a little bit romantic, little bit sappy, little bit of plot buutttt still mostly smut.  
> I wrote this in third person because I wanted it to be from Dante’s POV and I’m not good at doing second person when they’re not the POV character. It’s still a reader insert though and it flicks to second person at the very end anyway.  
> Please enjoy!

It had been a pretty boring day at Devil May Cry, all things considered. Dante had been almost fast asleep in his usual position, legs up on his desk and chair swaying precariously on its back legs. The room was silent, the world was still and all was well; until the door to the office flung violently open. 

The door creaked loudly on its hinges, the sound accompanied by the sudden appearance of a young woman bursting inside. She was out of breath as she stopped just inside the threshold. She didn’t bother to look up at him or at her surroundings. She hunched over as she struggled to catch her breath, leaning all of her weight on a blood soaked baseball bat that was covered in bent nails. She spoke quickly and frantically, rambling through deep breaths.

“Holy shit Dante, it actually worked! Well, sort of worked I guess. It sent me to the outskirts across down and then - fuck - I had to run the whole way back here. There were some empusas on the way of course, but they were no match for me,” she taps the handle of the bat and beams, seemingly proud of herself. 

Dante just watches her while she rambles on, wondering what the fuck was going on. She’s totally oblivious to him even though she seems to be talking to him. Dante swings his legs off the desk and stands up. He walks over to her, his boots making a loud noise against the hardwood floor but she still doesn’t look up. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t come and get me. Offended really Dante. I thought you’d come once you realised I’d left the city limits. Holy shit that was so far to run, but I didn’t want to worry you. Didn’t wanna be gone for too long ya know?” She finally seems to have caught her breath. “Shit Dante. Aren’t you gonna say anything? You know I hate running,” she says, and that’s when she finally looks up.

Her gaze takes him in slowly, a look of confusion slowly growing larger and larger on her face. She looks up at him, really looks up at him because he’s standing quite close and she’s still slightly hunched over. 

She looks him over, locks eyes with him through his long, unkempt hair. It’s gotten even longer since the whole tower incident, to the point where he can barely see through it. 

Her eyes move down his body, lingering on the fact that he’s shirtless underneath his coat. She seems to focus intently on the deep cut v of his hips and he decides to cock his hip out for her. She squeaks and lowers her eyes immediately, eyes darting around to take in the rest of the office. Dante resists the urge to make a quip at her, but only because she seems confused and embarrassed. 

He can hardly hear her, but she’s murmuring underneath her breath. “Holy shit it actually worked.” She turns to look back up at his face. “Dante?” she intones to herself, it sounds sort of like a question but then she’s shaking her head and responding to herself. “No. Of course it is, you look just like him. Smell like him too.”

He decides to say something with the slightly strange comment on his smell. “Can I help you there Doll?” he chides, intrigued now. 

She immediately jumps a step back from him, eyes darting around the office once more. She opens her mouth, closes it then opens it again. “What year is it?”

Dante realises then that he doesn’t actually know. Time has all blurred together since he lost his brother, the new year could have passed without him realising it. 

“Well uh, okayy then,” she says, drawing out the syllables. “How old are you then?”

He knows the answer to that one, solely because he hasn’t yet received his birthday offer from Love Planet for a free lap dance yet. He feels like he shouldn’t answer her, wonders why that’s one of the questions she asked first. It catches him off guard a little bit, and he thinks it was probably because she burst in initially like she owned the place. 

“Nineteen,” he grunts in response and her eyes widen.

“Oh shit,” she exhales. She thinks about his answer for a moment and then casts her eyes downwards. “Your brother. Have you uh, seen him recently?”

Again he shouldn’t answer but finds that he does anyway, there’s something strange about her that makes him want to be truthful. “A few months ago,” he mumbles, not actually sure if that’s the correct amount of time, but it’ll do.

“Oh,” she says, “Shit. I’m so sorry,” her voice sounds genuinely sad and it throws him off even more. She sighs, “I guess I should introduce myself huh?” She takes another half step back from him. “I’m from the future. Well, I think I’m from the future. I know you, well an older you anyway. We were trying to break open this cult artifact that we found. We knew it had some sort of time based power, but I didn’t expect this.” She finally takes a breath. “I was showing off, playing with the damn thing and well now I’m here.” She holds out a hand to him, “I’m ___,” she grins, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Dante doesn’t really believe her, but decides to go along with it anyway, for now. “Dante,” he mumbles back and shakes her hand. There’s a strange spark across his skin when his palm brushes against hers and he recoils back slightly in surprise. 

She seems not to notice. 

She immediately launches back into some discussion, changing the subject so he can’t think about what just happened. “I know that’s not a great explanation but it’s all I’ve got,” she trails off. “Anyway, you’ve got some demonology books lying around don’t you? I need to work out how to get home.”

\---

She spends the rest of the afternoon curled up on the couch, nose buried in thick demonology tomes. Dante tries to nap again - lewd magazine over his eyes this time - but finds that he can’t zone out the almost rhythmic turning of pages.

She stops once it starts to get dark outside. The office isn’t really light enough to be able to read at night. She sits up and stretches, her joints pop and her shirt rides up and Dante’s sharp eyes can’t help but notice what looks like claw marks stretching across her hips.

“Dinner?” she eyes him hopefully and Dante just shrugs. She stands up and walks over to him, eyeing him critically. “When was the last time you ate?”

He shrugs again.

She sighs. “Shit. Pizza?” she bounces slightly on her heels. 

“I don’t have any money.”

She stops and thinks for a moment, hand on her hip before her face lights up. “Oh! One of my jobs for today was to go to the bank.” She practically skips over to the couch and to her backpack lying on the floor. She rifles through it and pulls out an absolutely huge stack of bills. She starts flicking through them, tongue stuck out the side of her mouth in concentration. “I need to find one made before this year,” she says like he needed an explanation. 

She holds up a $50 bill with a generous shout of “Ah Hah!” and walks back over to him grinning. “My treat.”

She sits down on the front of his desk, perching herself there like it’s where she belongs, one leg folded over the other. “The lot with no olives right?” she turns to him but Dante’s far too shocked that she just came over and sat on his desk. He’s suddenly distracted by the curve of her body and he shakes his head to clear it. It’s been far too long since anyone got this close to him and there’s an insatiable demon awake inside of him right now, one that’s not too happy about her encroaching on his territory.

Finally he nods and she laughs and picks up the receiver. She twirls it in her hands while looking at him patiently. “Dial the number for me Baby,” she grins. 

He wants to say something about the nickname, or how she should get the fuck off his desk, but the allure of pizza is too much, so he just dials the number.

She speaks effortlessly to the guy on the phone, even when he tells her that he doesn’t deliver to Devil May Cry anymore. 

“Your beef’s with Dante right?” she says. “Well, do I sound like Dante?” she grins. “Exactly and I’ve got a crisp bill here with your name on it. Promise.”

She orders far too much pizza and actually lets him eat a whole one and a half to himself before she starts looking at him like he should stop. Damn it feels good to eat again, he hadn’t realised how long it had been. It starts his metabolism back up and he suddenly feels lethargic and sleepy. Blood flows properly back into his muscles and they almost immediately start complaining about the months of mistreatment he’s put them through. 

When she returns from putting the leftover pizza into the fridge, Dante is rolling his left shoulder, trying to stretch it out now it’s started aching like a bitch.

“Has your shoulder popped out again?” she says calmly, walking back towards him. “I can fix that for you,” she grins and steps a half step behind him. “Take off your coat,” she says in a soft voice. 

Dante is a little bit dumbfounded by the whole thing, his mind slowed because his body is digesting food. 

“Can I do it for you?” she asks, leaning over him so her head is next to his. She reaches down and undoes the clasp holding the strap across his chest. How did she know how to do that? She pulls the coat down and off his shoulders. He should stop her, he doesn’t know why he isn’t. Maybe because it does feel good to be touched by someone after so long. 

She moves back behind him and then brushes his hair off and over to his other shoulder. She presses her fingers against the bare skin of his shoulder. Her touch sparks against his skin again, but there’s also some pain as her fingers dig into the suddenly sore muscle. He struggles not to wince. 

She braces one palm against his shoulder blade and the other against his joint, stretching out his arm. Suddenly Dante is overcome with a strange sense of dread, like maybe he doesn’t actually want this strange woman to be touching him. 

She tells him to breathe in and out and before he can say anything she pushes against his shoulder. There’s a slide and a pop and suddenly it doesn’t hurt anymore. 

“There you go,” she sounds enthusiastic and then she leans down and presses a soft kiss to the bare skin of his shoulder. His shoulder tingles at her touch and Dante's whole body tightens up in shock. She flies back, recoiling in horror. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” she sounds panicked as she walks around in front of him, looking at him sheepishly. “I guess I’ve just given myself away huh? Old habits die hard right?”

Dante just shrugs, he doesn’t really care, or maybe he does? An action like that signals that she’s in some kind of relationship with him right?

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I thought I could get away with it.” She sounds somewhat apologetic.

Dante tilts his head to look at her, really look at her. He wonders what’s so special about her, he never thought he was the type to deal with the effort of having a relationship. She looks at him with a soft gaze, definitely the sort of expression that’s saved for people you care about, and he wonders what he ever did to deserve someone looking at him like that. 

She goes back to the couch, dragging a lamp over from near the bar so she can see the books as she starts reading once more. Dante almost feels like he should put his coat back on, but it’s not like he ever feels hot or cold anyway. He also has to admit he likes watching the way she keeps looking at him when she thinks he isn’t paying attention. The way her gaze keeps slipping down to his chest and abs, and often even lower. Maybe he’s shifting his hips deliberately for her too, it feels good to be wanted. 

Dante fucks around with his drawers for a while and the next time he looks up he sees her yawning, eyes bleary. He notices that she’s shivering as well and shit he really should be paying more attention to his surroundings.

“Time for bed?” he asks and she just yawns.

“I’ll take the couch,” she says, already moving to lie down. 

Dante shakes his head, he’s honestly surprised by himself but he doesn’t really have any spare bedding and he doesn’t want to wake up to find that she’s turned into an icicle. It really has been far too long since he had any company, surely she’s less dangerous than any of the random one night stands he used to bring home, “I trust you. Come upstairs with me.”

“If you’re sure,” she sounds hesitant but when he says nothing else and turns to walk up the stairs she follows behind him. 

He pulls an old shirt out of the dresser for her and turns away while she changes like the gentleman he really isn’t. He can’t help but sneak a look at her back but he’s pretty shocked when he sees that there are long claw marks stretching up and down the length of it and bruises shaped like fingers on the back of her hips. He decides not to bring it up. 

Dante just strips to his underwear and gets into bed, she’s basically been undressing him with her eyes all night and he’s never been one to be shy. 

“Goodnight Dante,” she smiles as she gets into bed and turns to face him. She stares at him, at her lips like she wants something. He can guess what it is but doesn’t want to think about it. 

He just grumbles “goodnight” and rolls over. 

She seems to fall asleep within moments, but it takes him quite a bit longer, not as long as usual though. The rhythmic sound of her breathing seems to lull him to sleep. 

\---

Dante wakes up to an absolutely scorching ache between his hips. He’s boiling hot and the sheets are sticky from his sweat. His cock is unbelievably hard, throbbing almost painfully. His immediate sleepy instinct is to reach down and fuck his first until he comes but there’s something in the back of his brain that makes him hesitate. As he does he notices the strange scent in the air that puts him on edge. 

He realises there’s a soft breath on the back of his neck. The woman from yesterday is still in bed with him.

“Finally. You’re awake,” she says breathily right into his ear. “You’ve been making pheromones like crazy Baby. All night. How are you feeling?” her hand rubs across his back gently and her touch sparks across his skin. The oppressive ache between his legs just gets worse. 

She runs her hand down his back and rests it on his hip, which of course also then starts to tingle. “Do you want me to help you?” She makes a strange noise deep in her throat and then runs her teeth against the back of his neck. 

Dante’s entire body jolts. He moans, not sure he can even manage to speak over the roaring in his head and the sparks dancing across his skin. 

He should just get up and leave her be but instead he puts his hand over hers and pulls them lower over his body. He needs something to touch his cock. 

The moan that escapes from his lips is embarrassingly loud but he doesn’t care as her hand brushes over the thick, throbbing outline in his underwear. 

“Damn Baby,” she purrs, “so hard already.” She starts to stroke him through the cloth and the friction is almost unbearable. She squeezes his cock, presses it to his abs and teases him as his hips writhe. 

She pulls his cock from its fabric prison and his whole body sings in relief. Her touch makes his whole body spark and catch on fire. He can’t do anything but groan incoherently and buck desperately into her hand.

Her fingers squeeze the thick base of his cock then stroke loosely up his shaft. She coaxes precome to ooze from the tip before twisting her wrist and spreading it around the aching head of him. It’s exactly how he fucking likes it.

She coos dirty words into his ear and his whole body shakes. “You’re so hard for me Baby. So wet too. Mmmm, your cock is so thick it barely fits in my hand huh?”

She tightens her grip and starts stroking him harder. He can feel her grin against the skin of his shoulder. “It’s been a while for you hasn’t it? I’m gonna wreck you for anyone else.”

The creature inside his mind is purring with pleasure. It’s sated for the first damn time since it awoke inside of him. 

She keeps stroking his cock with a rough pace. Dante chokes out strained sounds through clenched teeth as he bucks his hips helplessly into her hand. It doesn’t take long until he’s working out how to tell her he’s close. He thinks she already knows.

He’s right on the fucking edge, teetering between sanity and bliss when she bites on the back of his neck. She sinks her teeth into him almost deep enough to draw blood. An unbearable shock of heat shoots straight down his spine and he explodes in her hand with a howl. 

She strokes him through the aftershocks of pleasure as his cock spurts and spurts, staining the sheets. She gives him exactly what he needs, gentle pressure and long strokes. Milking his orgasm for everything he has. She coos gently into his ear while she rubs his back. “That’s it. You did so well. Such a good boy.” The praise makes his mind feel hazy.

She takes her hand away and he whines at the loss of sensation. He can hear and feel her doing something behind him but his muddled brain can’t work out what it is. He rolls over and struggles to make his bleary eyes focus. 

He doesn’t believe it at first but there’s no doubt about it. She’s licking up his cum from her fingers. 

Her eyes widen as he catches her in the act. She flushes and curls in on herself. “It’s uh. Good for my immune system,” she splutters out, but doesn’t stop until her hand is clean. 

Dante finds that he honestly doesn’t care, even though it’s weird. He rolls over onto his back, still catching his breath. The shifting of sheets sends a delicious scent wafting straight to his nose and he realises she wants him too. 

He finds that his voice doesn’t quite properly work when he tries to speak. Shit, when did he become so weak as to be wiped out by a single orgasm? “Do you want?” he gestures wildly, his words slurred together. 

“Oh,” she sounds shocked. “No, it’s okay.” She seems quite flustered as she sits up in the bed. “I’m going to have a shower,” she says as she gets out of bed. She turns back to him with a smug grin on her face. “If you go again, dig your nails into your other shoulder. You can thank me later,” she winks and then walks off. Dante’s eyes follow the swing of her hips as she leaves the room and shuts the door behind her. 

Dante really doesn’t want to pry and listen to her in the shower. He wants to make an attempt to be respectful but his sensitive hearing and demonic senses have other ideas. He can’t help but make out the wet sounds of her touching herself under the harsh spray of water. 

He belatedly realises that his hand has moved down to his crotch, where his cock is now standing at attention once more. He realises that he’s now stroking himself in furious time with her movements. He can hear as she falls to her knees in the tub and the wet squelch of her fingers. She’s not at all gentle with her body and that turns him on more than anything. 

It’s only moments before he can hear the hoarse shout of his name on her lips as she comes.

The sound of it, so unexpected, makes him dig his nails into the meat of his shoulder. It’s amazing like she said it would be, the deep rush of heat pooling in his groin and forcing him to climax intensely once more. 

\---

“I made you breakfast,” she says to him cheerfully as he walks down the stairs later; freshly showered and already three orgasms into the day. He’s just wearing a towel around his shoulders and his normal pants slung low on his hips. She’s sitting on the couch reading again but she looks up as he walks down. She stares at him while he’s in view, eyeing him up and down like she wants to sink her teeth into him. 

There’s a bowl of cereal on his desk, sprinkled with sugar and marshmallows; exactly how he likes it. There’s a carton of milk placed to the side of it and Dante knows that none of that stuff was in his cupboards an hour ago. He decides not to mention it as he eats in relative silence. 

She reads for the rest of the morning while he pretends to do paperwork. She keeps sneaking glances at his body when she thinks he isn’t looking. It’s cute, but also starting to drive him crazy.

She brings him warmed up leftover pizza and beer for lunch, taking a beer for herself as well. He wouldn’t have bothered with the meal if it was just him, but he’s not going to say no to food.

She sits on the other side of his desk while they eat. He can’t help but laugh as he watches her wince while taking a sip of beer. He doesn’t blame her, it’s the gross, cheap stuff and it’s pretty old too. It takes him a decent amount of willpower to get it down so he can’t blame her reaction. 

They talk a little bit over food. She’s cagey about the whole time travel thing but crazy talkative about everything else. She talks about the weather, something called global warming that he doesn’t care about. She talks about her favourite pair of jeans that she doesn’t have with her right now. The conversation is pretty relaxed, considering what happened this morning, he’s sure the beer helps with that though. Eventually, he is able to get her talking about where she’s from. 

“You look basically the same as what I’m used to,” she smiles, “but quite a bit younger obviously. You have the same features and the same aura if that makes sense. When you smile, I can match it up with the wrinkles I’m used to, I like that,” her expression turns soft, “You show your age well, but you still show it. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you completely clean shaven either.” She laughs and then pokes his sternum, “and there’s no hair on your chest. None at all. Fuck that’s strange, I’ve lost keys in that shit.”

She keeps laughing at herself, obviously thinking of some memory that he’s not currently a part of. Dante ponders the slightly horrifying realisation that he grows up and turns into some sort of winkly, hairy monster. He distantly wonders if he should actually start taking care of his appearance. “How old are we talking here?”

She ponders him for a moment but replies quietly, “I don’t think I should say.”

“How long have you known me?”

“A few years,” she says and then notices the expression on his face. He can’t help the joking smirk that crosses his lips as she seems to work out what he’s going to ask next. She hides her face in her hands, “oh God. Don’t even say it. Yes we fucked on the first date.”

He laughs, “good to know. How about next week's lottery numbers?”

She reaches over the desk and pokes his shoulder. “Please, I was only just alive at this point. I don’t have any good info to give you.”

“Do you want to go visit yourself, your family in this time?”

Her face drops a little bit, maybe he shouldn’t have asked. “They don’t live around here. It’d be too far to go and they don’t need me watching over them.” She changes the subject quickly, “I feel sort of bad that I don’t have any questions for you.”

“There isn’t anything you want to know? I don’t care.”

She thinks for a moment and then shakes her head, “there’s nothing I really need to know the answer to.”

He smirks, “don’t you atleast wanna know if I think you’re hot?”

She chuckles, “Please Dante. I’m covered in your pheromones. You couldn’t answer that honestly even if you wanted to.”

Now his interest is piqued. “What do you mean?”

She stands up and walks around the desk towards him. She stands next to him and leans down slightly, so he’s eye level with her. She puts her hand flat on his chest, over his heart. “Your skin sparks when I touch you right? It’s because you’ve claimed me, even if your current body is a little bit confused about it, it knows what’s going on.”

And with her words everything clicks slightly into place. There’s a rush of heat radiating through his body from her touch, from the fact that she said the word claim while touching him. The creature inside of him purrs with delight. He doesn’t understand it at all. 

There’s a change in the atmosphere of the room, an undeniable heat and crackling static in the air. She’s starting desperately at his lips and he doesn’t understand how he’s supposed to resist something that clearly wants him so badly. There’s a dark voice in the back of his mind that tells him to take and claim, to scratch and bite. To make her scream so loudly the whole street knows who she belongs to. 

Dante has never been good at showing restraint at the best of times. 

He puts a hand on the back of her neck, as gently as he can even though his touch is rough. He pulls her to him and their lips meet with an electrical spark and a gasp. She kisses him with vigour but softly, carefully. He runs his tongue across her lips and she opens up for him. Within moments of their tongues touching she’s sinking down confidently into his lap, like she’s always belonged here. She presses a hand flat against his chest the other sliding around his bare waist as she fights him with her tongue and tries to devour him. 

She’s grinding herself on his lap when he pulls back, almost struggling for air. “Is this okay?” he asks because even though she seems so fucking into it he wants to make sure. She stops grinding for a moment and he realises that he can smell her delicious, eager arousal. 

“Fuck yeah!” she moans. She threads a hand roughly into his hair and slams her lips to his once more. She yanks his head back by his hair, the pricks of pain making a shiver of heat run down his spine. She raises herself up until she’s above him, leaning over him with a feral expression and she kisses him again, tugging back on his hair. He growls and she bites down hard on his lip, drawing blood. 

Fuck. He has to have her right now. 

He picks her up and throws her on his desk as he stands up. Paperwork and crap flies everywhere but he doesn’t care. He looms over her and he’s pretty sure it’s a terrifying sight. There’s a red ring tinging the edge of his vision and he’s sure that he looks more demonic than human right now. She just pulls him down for another kiss, tugging on his hair as he pulls on her hips until he can slot his crotch against her core.

She bucks her hips against him and he can feel the heat of her even through their clothing. He devours her with his tongue, desperate for more. There’s blood filling his mouth and he finds that he’s desperate for more of it, until he realises that it’s not his. He’s grown fangs and he’s making her bleed. He struggles to pull away, gasping and he finds her licking her bloody lips. 

“Can you control your other half?” she groans, voice slightly hoarse. 

Dante shakes his head because he knows there’s no point in lying when her blood is already dripping down her chin. 

She sits up, reaching out and touching his cheek. “You’ll hurt me, if we keep going like this.” He can help but lean into the surprising comfort of her touch, “let’s go upstairs instead.”

She pushes against him until he makes enough room for her to slide off his desk. Her legs are shaking slightly as she stands on them, but she still takes his hand and leads him up the stairs anyway. He follows her like a lost puppy. He’s finding it difficult to walk with how tight and restricting his pants have suddenly become. He’s as hard as a fucking rock and he doesn’t understand why his body’s reacted like this. 

She stops once she enters his bedroom. The sheets are still a mess from this morning and he can smell that the room is pretty musty. She looks him up and down, eyes focusing on the slight flush of his chest and the very large bulge in his pants. 

“Do you have cuffs?” She asks and he doesn’t understand. 

“For you?” he asks.

“No silly,” she smiles, “for you.”

“I have some. They’re strong but I can still break them.” He admits sheepishly. He’s not ashamed that he often likes to be submissive, but he knows it’s not usually what people expect from him. She’s different though right?”

She pays his existential pondering no mind. “Those will certainly do. In the box under the bed?” she’s already walking over to his usual side of the bed. “Lie down Baby. Get comfortable.” She kneels down and starts rummaging under his bed.

Dante checks himself, realising that he’s only wearing pants so he doesn’t need to take anything off. He sits on the bed wondering if he should lie down.

“These ones?” her voice cuts through the air. Dante looks over to find her holding up the thick, reinforced handcuffs. 

He nods.

She twirls them in her hands and deems them acceptable. She kneels on the bed and coaxes him to lie down. She sits on his chest once he’s comfortable, straddling him with her warm weight on top of him. She runs her hands in a soft caress from his shoulders to his biceps and forearms, then down to his wrists. She takes them gently in her hands and brings his arms up above his head. She cuffs them together but doesn’t attach them to the bed. It seems that she knows the frame wouldn’t survive if she tied him to it. 

“Keep your arms above your head,” she smiles softly and Dante crunches up so he can put his hands underneath his head, to reduce the temptation of moving them. She squeaks as her body jolts at the movement, squeezing her legs around him to hold on. 

Her touch is pretty soft as she shifts lower down his body. She sits on his abs and her weight restricts his breathing slightly. He fucking loves it. 

“The most important thing here,” she presses nails lightly into his chest. “Is to convince your other half that it doesn’t want to hurt me and then we can release the cuffs.” He’s pretty sure that’s not how this whole thing fucking works, but he’s not too proud to admit that he doesn’t really know how it works at all. She leans down until her lips are right at his ear, “and then you can go fucking wild on me.”

Dante finds that his body is thrashing underneath her without his consent, a sharp moan escaping from his throat. She laughs. “I know your body pretty well,” he drags his attention back to her face. “Probably some stuff you don’t, especially because you haven’t been properly awake for too long. Just let it all happen okay?” she leans down and kisses his cheek. “But, please tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable alright? We’ll use traffic light colours for a safe word. Okay?”

“Okay,” he says, shifting underneath her. 

She positions herself comfortably on his abs again, stretching upwards and then taking off her shirt. She throws it across the room and then reaches behind her to work on her bra. It pushes her chest out towards his face and Dante flexes his hands, already desperate to touch and struggling not to. Her body is nice, what he likes but now he can’t help but notice that her front is covered in scratches. There’s what looks like bite marks on her chest, claw marks all on her sides and finger shaped bruises on her hips.

“What are those?” He asks, trying to gesture with his chin and she looks down at him just as she gets her bra undone and she throws it off. His eyes are drawn immediately to her bare breasts while she looks down at her body like she’s trying to work out what he’s talking about.

“Oh. The marks?” she laughs sweetly. “Let’s just say that you never actually learn how to fully control your other side,” she sighs, “no matter how much we practice.” She looks at him fondly, not that he’s really looking at her face right now. She tilts her head and her expression turns soft and gentle. “Do you mind if I just touch you?” she asks, her voice soft, “you’re a little bit different than what I’m used to.”

Dante shrugs, says yes because he doesn’t really mind and because he’s desperate for her to do something. The longer that his body isn’t distracted, the more worried he is that he’ll lose control. 

Her touch sparks against his skin as she leans down and kisses him once more. She moves her lips across his jaw, underneath his ear. He shivers at the heat of her breath against his skin. Her nails rake across the skin of his chest while her lips and tongue then soothe over the raised ridges.

She cups his firm pecs in her hands, plays with them. Pinches his nipples with her fingers and sends sparks straight to his crotch. He’s never really bothered with them before but holy shit he can’t help but arch up into her touch. She licks up the deep ridge between his tits as she pushes them together, makes him squirm as her tongue runs across his nipples. She chuckles as his body jerks, trying to get away from the sensation. She laughs loudly and then leans down, motorboating his chest before pulling away grinning. 

She presses her hands tight against his chest, restricts his heavy breathing. He can’t believe how into this whole thing he is. She works her way down his body with her tongue until she’s biting at the bones of his hips and running nails against the curves of his abs. She drags her tongue up and down the deep v of his hips, absolutely enthralled by it. 

She nuzzles at the skin of his abdomen, puts her hands on his hips and digs her nails in. She taunts him, makes him writhe his hips underneath her. He soon realises it’s because she wants to feel the play of his muscles underneath his skin. He feels a slight surge of pride at having something his older self obviously doesn’t have. He decides to put on a show for her. 

He rocks his hips, moves them back and forth. The hot, still clothed bulge of his cock presses against her bare breasts as her tongue moves against his too hot skin. 

She’s practically drooling as she tears herself away from him. Looking at her hungry eyes only makes him more desperate for more. She’s breathing heavily, eyes darting around like she’s thinking. Then she smirks at him, her hands moving to cup her breasts. His eyes immediately follow the action as she plays with them, pushing them together with her hands and tugging at her nipples. 

She runs her hands down her body, rocking her hips. Fuck she’s sitting on his pelvis and his head thrashes trying to hold himself back. He’s entranced by her and she grins, moving up his body until his vision is totally filled with her breasts. 

She straightens her back and then he’s looking up at her. He wants to run his tongue all across her soft skin. “Don’t break your cuffs,” she teases him, “but undress me with your claws.”

Fuck, his body is reacting before his mind does. The chain of the cuffs rattle and clink as he pulls on them until he manages to get a big hand on either side of her hips. He rakes his nails down and the fabric parts easily under his touch. The scent of her arousal is intense, hitting his nose like a freight train now there’s nothing covering her anymore. He inhales deeply. 

He wants to sink his teeth into her, bury his mouth between her legs and lap up her sweet cream until she gushes more all over his face. “You can touch me,” she says tangling fingers into his long her. She pulls on it and it feels fucking fantastic. She brushes it back from his face so he can see what he’s doing, holding onto the strands tightly and causing pinpricks of pain and pleasure on his scalp.

His face is so close to her hip, eyes zeroing in on the deep vein that he can sense pulsing just underneath her skin. She seems to notice that he’s entranced and tugs on his hair. He moans. 

“You can bite me if you want Baby,” she teases, grinning. 

Dante sinks his sharp teeth into the soft, warm skin of her hip. Her blood is sweet, scorching hot and he moans. He latches onto the wound and sucks while she rocks her hips into him. She encourages him to take his fill, his hands pull her hips closer to his face and he sucks up the warm liquid until she uses her hands on his head to force him away. 

He’s sure he looks feral, dilated pupils and blood dripping from his fangs as he looks up at her. She smells so fucking good, the mix of blood and arousal enthralling and he’s desperate for a taste of her. He doesn’t wait for permission, lowering his face and pressing his tongue between her legs. 

She moans out his name, pulls on his hair and forces him closer to the overwhelming scent of her. He thrusts his tongue inside of her, God she tastes like heaven. He eats her like he’s starving for her, and he is. It’s even better once she starts practically shaking on top of him. His fangs nick at her folds and she cries out, spurring him on with choked off cries and tugs on his hair. She has no reservations about his fangs being between her legs, or the slightly prehensile twist of his tongue. 

He doesn’t know if she’s going to let him make her come but fuck he’s going to try. The lewd sound of him slurping loudly against her echos through the room. He knows the basics of what to do, knows where to flick his tongue. He wants to press thick fingers inside of her, feel her tighten and spasm around him and make her beg for his cock. But he’s still cuffed, hands and claws digging into her marked up hips. 

She comes and it’s everything he’s ever wanted. A gush of wet heat against his mouth and an overwhelming scent of arousal and satisfaction. The contraction of her soft walls around his tongue makes him moan, makes his hips shift in desperation. 

She pulls him away from her and he growls, not wanting to leave her. He licks his lips clean with a tongue that is slightly too long as she laughs, breathless, “fuck Baby that was so good.” She pushes his face back down to the bed and he nips at her fingers. She laughs and smiles at him with far too much playful affection. 

“Hands back under your head Sweetheart,” she whispers and coaxes him back into position. She slots her hips over his once more and the delicious hot friction against his cock makes him snarl. She’s bare and soaking wet for him, and he can feel the heat of her through his pants, feel her come slowly seeping through the fabric. It’s absolutely maddening. 

She runs her teeth and tongue over his neck and he starts rumbling from deep in his chest. She moans against his too tight and too sensitive skin. Teases him with small bites that grow stronger and harder in pressure. Then she bites down hard on his neck, forceful enough to draw blood, retaliation for what he did to her earlier. Dante wrenches his head back and howls as the sheets split underneath his head. 

Her lips are dripping enticing crimson when she looks back up at him. She looks feral, aroused as she licks her lips and then dives back down for more. She laps and sucks at the wound until it heals over and there’s not even a mark left. 

“Fuck. I need you,” she moans and then she’s making her way down his body once more. She spreads her slicks across the boiling hot skin of his abs as she does and he can’t stand it. She attacks his hips again, covering them with red from her bloodied tongue. 

She pulls away, looking up at him. Fuck she looks starving, blown out pupils as she stares down at the large aching bulge in his pants. It throbs now he’s thinking about it and Dante can’t help but groan. She lets out a low sound of her own and fuck, the metal of the handcuffs strain underneath his head. 

She places her palm down flat against his cock, pressing it to his thigh. He can feel the heat of her even through the fabric. His cock jumps against her hands and his hips squirm at the pressure. “Please,” he breathes quietly, begging for her to do something, anything. She simply laughs at him, squeezing his cock until he lets out a strained moan. 

There’s a wet patch half way down his thigh and he can feel her tongue as she licks it, savours the taste of the dark stain as her hands wander across his thighs. “Your legs are so much smaller,” she muses and then looks up at him darkly, “your cock looks absolutely huge.”

Fuck. Dante honestly doesn’t know how much more of this torture he can take. 

Finally she undoes the button on his fly and then the zipper. The release of the utterly unbearable, constricting pressure on his cock makes him groan, even though it’s not nearly enough. His cock is still trapped painfully against his leg, skin at the base of it pulled tight as it desperately tries and fails to point upwards. 

She pulls his cock out slowly, not bothered to pull down his pants further than she needs to. She bites at his hip bone once more, licks at his skin as her hand slowly works him free from the tight restriction of his pant leg. She strokes and teases at it all the while. 

Once his cock is finally free, she laughs and Dante groans as it smacks forcefully and loudly against his abs. The relief is incredible, even though he can feel the stickiness from the tip smearing across his skin. 

She strokes his cock, finally unhindered by fabric and Dante cries out at the sensation. She squeezes and wrings precome effortlessly from the tip of him. She lets it pool in the dips in his abs before leaning down to lick it from his skin. 

Eventually she seems to be done teasing him, well with her mouth anyway. She sits up and straddles him, sits on his lap so he can feel the wet heat of her against the overly sensitive skin of his shaft. She slides up his body, hovering on top of him as the tip of his cock grazes against her entrance. She presses her hips down so he can feel the wet heat of her, the slight stretch of skin as she threatens to engulf him before pulling back with a laugh. 

She grinds herself on the long, thick shaft of his cock. Covering him with her own delicious juices as she leans up to tease at this neck once more. The press of her teeth on his skin makes his hips buck up. She bites down hard on his collarbone and it’s all too much. 

Dante comes again, cock untouched and covered in her slick. 

Dante snarls, gasps as he comes. She laughs breathily against his ear as the deep rumbles from his chest start to sound less and less human. 

“Good Boy,” she praises him, nupping at his ear as his body comes down from its high. The hardness of his cock doesn’t wane even slightly. 

She moves down his body, “oh Sweetheart. You made such a mess,” she coos at him and then leans down and starts licking up his come. 

Her tongue is tickling against his skin, his come hot where it lies in streaks across his hips. She leans up to show him each and every mouthful that she catches on her tongue before making a big show of swallowing. 

When his skin is finally sparkling clean, skin shining from her saliva. She levels him a cheeky and slightly horrifying grin. 

“Dante,” her voice sounds far too sweet. “Here’s something you might not know.” She’s almost cackling now, “did you know your come also coats your throat?”

He doesn’t know what she means but then she lowers her mouth down, and down, down until holy fuck almost the whole length of his cock has disappeared down her throat. No one has ever done that to him before. 

She barely even reacts, angling her body as her nose ends up buried into sparse, light coloured hair as she starts to work his cock.

It’s incredible. Holy. Fucking. Shit. Her throat constricts around his length as she swallows and the heat is absolutely, utterly unbearable. The tendons in his arms strain as he struggles to resist the urge to put his hands in her hair and push her down. He wants to fist his hands tightly in her hair and yank, to force her violently down against his cock. Fuck. He lets out a low, strangled noise and instead tries to focus on not moving his hips. He doesn’t want to hurt her. His teeth are gritted so tightly that he’s almost worried they might crack. She just keeps swallowing down around him. 

“Fuck.” He just can’t help but swear as one of her hands moves down to fondle with his balls and then dips even lower. He can’t control his strength anymore, can’t resist the urge to violently chase the sensation. He thrusts up hard against her, fucking himself into her throat at a rough pace that would surely bruise. She presses down on his hips to get him to stop, but he can’t stop. It only spurs him on more. She starts to pull herself off his cock. Her teeth scrape all the way up his length. It makes him snarl. 

“Shit. I’m so sorry Baby,” she says once her mouth is finally a safe distance from him. She’s coughing and her voice is hoarse. His hips are still moving underneath her. “I shouldn’t have expected you to be able to control yourself.” She moves up to his face to press a gentle kiss to his temple. It’s not nearly enough. She’s trying to reassure him, even though he could have killed her. “Next time,” she grins, that terrifying expression on her face once more. “We’ll restrain your hips properly.” She laughs but her teasing words make him close his eyes and moan. She starts moving again. 

She slides herself backwards, covering his torso in slick fluids. The scent is overwhelming and he’s somehow even more desperate for her than he was before. His cock is aching, throbbing desperately after having felt the tight heat of her throat and being denied. “How about we get onto the main event. You deserve it,” she’s grinning again and she moves down over his hips. 

She lifts herself up, knees squeezing him for support. Her small hands are on his cock, angling it upwards. He realises that she intends to just take him, to just sink herself down and he knows that’s not right. “Wait,” he calls out and she stops immediately. “Don’t you need prep first?”

She flushes on top of him and looks embarrassed once more. “I uh, take this basically every day. I’m used to it.” Her expression changes to something cocky, something sexy, “I’m kind of a slut for the stretch and burn anyway,” she grins and then starts lowering herself down once more. 

Dante once again struggles not to move his hips, not to buck up and sink his entire length inside the soaking heat of her. It’s easier to resist now, with the weight of her hips and her body pushing down on him. He can feel how tight she is, how her walls stretch and part around his length. He realises belatedly that this is his first time without a condom and the extra sensation is ridiculously intense. 

She moans, obviously knowing what she’s going as she slides a few inches down his cock before lifting back up. She repeats the motion, driving him absolutely fucking crazy until slowly but surely she manages to fit his whole cock inside of her. He hasn’t had that happen before either. 

She swears loudly, throwing her head back once she takes him all the way to the hilt. She just stays still, basking in the feel of him and waiting for her body to adjust to him. He’s basically shaking underneath her with the strain of keeping still. 

She digs her nails into his hips for support, the sharp pricks drawing blood that makes his whole body sing. There’s a dangerous coil tightening inside of him, the pain pulling it even tighter. He worries about what might happen when it finally snaps. 

She rocks her hips slightly, not that much, just forwards and backwards. The sensation makes him growl, makes a tearing sound echo off the walls as his claws rip the sheets underneath his head. It’s taking everything he has to keep still for her, and to keep his hands right where they are. 

There’s a darkness inside of him, voice getting louder and louder with each rock of her hips. It wants to sink its claws and teeth into hre skin. To mark her as his while he forces his cock so far inside of her that it might not ever come out. He doesn’t know how to reign himself in. 

“Dante. Baby,” her voice hoarse and breathless breaks through the dark, white noise in his head. “You gotta breathe Darling.” 

He unclenches his jaw, only just now noticing that his mouth has filled with blood as his fangs have shredded his gums and lips. He takes in a deep breath, and then a few of them, and the haze begins to clear ever so slightly from his head. 

“That’s it. Such a good boy for me. Just keep breathing and let me do the work okay.”

Dante tries to speak but the words die in his throat. They end up sounding like the startling cries of a strangled animal. He just nods instead. 

She raises herself up on his hips. He can feel the still warm but cooler air of the room against his shaft. She rocks her hips while only the tip of him is inside her. She giggles as he struggles to keep his hips still, his head thrashing around on the pillow. When she finally sinks back down it’s like heaven. He doesn’t want her to do it again. 

She does though, alternating between grinding against his pelvis and raising herself up and down on his cock. The rhythm of it, the uneven sensations help him stay in control, somehow. She does this for a while, working up to a faster pace while he thrashes around underneath her. It feels like forever until she changes it up a little bit, pushing her hips forward and angling her pelvis with every thrust until she starts to cry out. 

The sound is excruciating to his ears, his sensitive hearing picking up on every single vibration in the air as she cries out his name. Forcing his cock against some part inside of her that is making her go absolutely insane. His vision is so clouded in red that he can barely see straight. “I’m going to come Baby,” she cries and reaches down to play furiously with her clit. Dante snarls, he can feel her fingers bumping against the base of his cock. He wants to do it for her. The mattress tears underneath his claws. He can’t stop bucking his hips up against her, meeting her every thrust. 

Her cries reach a fever pitch, so much more intense than what he heard in the shower this morning. She screams his name and tightens impossibly around him. Her nails dig into his hips and it makes him buck his hips harder. She thrashes and spasms above him. Fuck he can’t help but come. He bucks his hips up hard, gravity forcing her all the way down on his cock as he spills himself deep inside of her, her hips flush with his. There’s a tearing sound as he grows horns that pierce the shitty drywall behind the bed. Dante comes with a snarl, an unholy gutteral sound that shakes the foundations of the shop. 

She practically collapses on top of him, hunched over, catching her breath. “Fuck,” she breathes out, flopping against his chest. His cock is still hard and throbbing inside of her, but she seems to be used to it, bending herself so it’s not a problem. He can feel every single breath that she takes around his cock, every single pulse of her heart through her insides.

Dante just can’t fucking stand it anymore. The handcuffs snap effortlessly and his hands move. One time wasn’t enough, nowhere fucking near enough. He needs more, craves it, needs it more than air. He needs to bite, to take, to claim, or he’s going to die. He moves at superhuman speed, unable to stop himself. He pushes her face down into the mattress and lines himself up behind her. 

“Mmph, Dante,” she moans, her voice muffled by the pillow. She’s out of it but still manages to get herself up on her hands and knees. Presenting herself to him. His claws dig into her hips and he can see the marks that stretch all the way across her back from his position. It makes anger, jealousy well up from somewhere deep inside of him, even though he knows that technically they’re from himself. 

She waves her plush ass against him and he growls low in his throat. She seems to have recovered and he can smell that she’s ready for more. “Don’t cause me any permanent damage, Love,” she warns him. He slams her back against his hips, groaning as his cock slips between her ass cheeks. 

His cock is still soaking wet as he lines himself up with her. His come is still dripping from her hole and Christ he never wants to stop looking at it. He doesn’t think he’s doing to fit, even though evidence to the contrary is right there in front of him. The darkness inside of him is absolutely famished. He can’t resist it any longer. 

His claws dig into her hips and she taunts him, playing with fire. “Come on Baby. Impale me.”

Shit. He’s too rough. He knows it but he can’t fucking stop himself. He pushes inside her eager body in one powerful thrust, all the way to the hilt, all the way until his hips are flush with her ass. He groans, claws raking down her hips, drawing blood. She screams, cries his name and begs him for more. He can’t refuse her. She tells him to fuck her harder, even though he thinks she will break if he tries. Each of his powerful thrusts shake the bed and she’s absolutely insatiable. 

Her juices leak down around his cock and her hole keeps spasming, tightening around him. She cries out for him, seems to come over and over again as each thrust of his hips makes her shake. 

He adds claw marks and bruises to the ones already on her back and hips. He sinks his fangs into her back, her shoulder. The sweet taste of her blood on his tongue only spurs him on more. She teases him, goads him on with each thrust, encourages him. She’s desperate for everything that he can give her and he doesn’t know how much more he can take. 

He plays with the angle of her hips, with his thrusts until her cries reach a fever pitch. Her whole body goes taught against him and she stops breathing for a moment. She screams but it’s almost silent, her whole body shaking as she comes around him. He didn’t even touch her clit. She gushes all over him, makes a mess of his hips and the bed. 

Fuck. Fuck! He can’t help it. He spills inside her with a roar, his pace even rougher than before as he fucks her hard through each shocking pulse of his orgasm. He swears that he can almost hear the creaking of her bones as his strength threatens to crush her. His whole body is shaking and he starts to phase in and out of his devil trigger. 

His cock grows inside of her, she gets even tighter around him and fuck, he thinks he comes again.

His orgasm is endless. He floods her insides with his come until it’s gushing out of her in waves. He’s still inside of her as he falls on top of her in exhaustion. His horns scrape the wall on his way down, his claws shred the pillows as he passes out, his whole weight above her.

She seems used to it, somehow getting herself out from underneath him. She pulls him into her arms and plays gently with his hair until he’s finally coherent enough to open his eyes. He’s back to his human form by then and she smiles at him with so much love even though she looks awful. There’s tear tracks running down her face, hair everywhere, dried blood all over her. He pulls her to his chest and lies on his back, all he wants to do is sleep. There’s a deep rumbling sound, a content sound coming from his chest, the beast inside of him finally sated for the first time since it awoke. She rubs her thumb over his chest, whispers sweet nothings against his skin. 

They must fall asleep like that because it’s dark when he manages to open his eyes again. 

\---

It’s the day after the day after all of that, that she finds a way to get home. They’ve fucked enough times that Dante thinks he might have a little bit of a handle on controlling his urges. Not that he’s learnt too much considering that she takes everything he can give her and then still begs for more. He’s got an even larger collection of toys under his bed now to help him, and she’s given him tips for how to reign himself in, but he’s not sure how he could want anyone else after all of this. 

“I’ve found out how to get home,” she says from her usual position on the couch. She’s wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his pants that are rolled up at the ankles so much he’s surprised she can even walk. She’s so much smaller than him, so much more fragile. She shouldn’t be able to walk, not with how rough he’s been with her, but somehow she can. She says that his come and his blood helps humans heal, but he can’t believe he hasn’t broken her pelvis yet. 

She’s smiling as she walks over to him but Dante can absolutely notice the ever so slight hint of sadness in her gaze. She walks over to him, shows him a page in the book full of strange symbols. He only really understands the basics of this stuff, but the page is easy enough to follow. 

“When are you going?” he asks her, and it’s a loaded question for sure. 

She looks down, not meeting his eyes. “As soon as I can. The spell doesn’t work for very long. The longer I stay here the harder it is to go back, the more chance there is of something going wrong.” She sighs, “you know I don’t really want to leave you yeah?”

“But you’ve got a better me waiting for you, right?” He really doesn’t mean for there to be so much venom in his voice, but he can’t help it. The dark voice in the back of his head returns, tells him how useless he is, tells him that if he makes her hate him, then her leaving won’t hurt so much. That’s how he’s always managed so far. 

“Dante,” she says, her voice so soft. “You know it’s not like that. It’s too dangerous for me to stay here.” She hugs him, arms wrapping tight around his waist. He can’t help but lean into her touch, the warm of her comforting even though he doesn’t put his arms around her in return. “Damnit, don’t do this to me. Please,” she’s almost crying and he knows he’s being unreasonable. 

She pulls away from him slightly, even as his arms come around her. “Dante,” her voice is soft, “look at me.”

He does, looking at her with his stupid hair hiding his eyes.

“I won’t lie to you. You don’t have an easy life, but I promise it gets better. One day you’re going to wake up and realise you have friends and a family, everything you ever wanted. Even if you won’t ever admit it.” She moves her fingers until they’re underneath his chin and presses up gently. “Hold your chin up and keep looking forward, no matter what happens. All of your best moments are still to come, look forward to them for me. Please.”

He doesn’t say anything but he pulls her to his chest. She lets him hold her for a long time but eventually she’s pulling away. 

She walks back to the couch and starts packing up her things. She knows her words have reached him, even if he doesn’t react to them. 

She walks back to him a few minutes later, holding out a stack of money. “Don’t spend it all at once,” she grins but he shakes his head, pushing it away. He doesn’t want her money.  
“If you’re sure,” she says turning back towards the couch. She seems to think that he won't notice that she’s stuffing notes in between the couch cushions. He decides not to say anything.

He should be better than this, should do better than this. Should be actively trying not to tarnish the last few moments that he’ll get to spend with her, instead of acting like this. He wonders if he should just go over and pick her up, take her upstairs and have her again. He wants to, even though he already had her four times this morning and her legs are still shaking. 

She zips up her backpack and hoists it over her shoulder. She walks back to his desk. “Dante,” her eyes are full of hope, “will you draw the symbols for me?” He wants to refuse, knowing that without his devil blood she won’t be able to get home but he knows it wouldn’t be right. 

He takes the book from her and studies it for a moment, committing it to memory before he walks over to the centre of the floor. He moves to bite open his wrist but she stops him. She holds it, brings it to her lips. She kisses the soft skin on the inside of his wrist, traces the veins with her tongue. Then she bites down hard enough to draw blood. It drips down his arm and he watches transfixed as she swipes her tongue up the first dripping bead and then licks the crimson liquid from her lips. His dick is already fucking hard and he shakes his head to try and clear his mind before he starts writing with his blood on the floor. 

She double checks his work and seems happy with it. She picks up her bag and puts it in the middle of the circle; her spiked bat clattering to the ground. She turns to look at him and he can see the moment that her heart breaks. 

She walks over to hug him again, “I guess this is goodbye,” she smiles sadly. He lets her, buries his face into her neck and tries to commit the scent of her to his memory. He doesn’t want to let go and she lets him squeeze his arms around her for far longer than he should. 

She goes to pull away and he doesn’t let go. 

She puts one of her palms against his cheek, angles him until he takes a small step back so he can look at her. “Don’t worry. You’ll see me again. I promise.”

And then she’s standing in the middle of that god-damn circle. She waves at him, “goodbye Dante,” she says and she’s smiling but he can see that she’s crying. “I love you,” she whispers softly as a physical pain rips through his chest. 

There’s a spark and a bang, and then she’s gone. 

Dante stands in his office, staring at the slightly scorched patch of floor where she had been standing. He stands there in silence for a long time, waiting and watching.

As the years go by, the scorch marks on the floorboards fade away. 

\----

You appear only a few streets away from the office this time and so you’re much less out of breath when you run into the office. 

“Babe!” you hear enthusiastically from inside and before you can say anything, you’re wrapped up in a huge, all encompassing hug from your own Dante.

He’s warmer than his younger self was, bigger, stronger. He smells different too, but to the deep recesses of your mind that recognise his pheromones, it’s the same.

“I missed you,” he murmurs into your hair. 

“How long was I gone for?” you ask him. You’re maybe worried now that you’ve been gone for a while. You were only in the past for a few days but you have no idea how that translates into time here. 

“Years,” he says quietly. “Over half of my damn life.”

You pull away startled, worried because maybe far more time than you expected has passed. But as you study his face, you realise that he looks exactly the same as when you left him. Same hair length, same face and you blink as you realise what he means. 

You try to pull away but he doesn’t let you. He holds you on his terms before with a sigh, he leads you to his desk. 

Dante, your wonderful, older Dante rifles through his bottom drawer and pulls out a yellowing piece of paper. He unfolds it and hands it to you. It’s a sketch of your face, roughly done, faded but undeniably you. 

“I have an almost perfect memory, “ he starts speaking, “but not for faces. I didn’t want to forget how you looked. I wanted to recognise you the second I saw you again. It took me so many tries, I’m really not good at drawing.” You move to look up at him. “For a while there I was so worried. You weren’t that old back then and as I kept getting older I thought maybe I’d fucked up somewhere. That I wasn’t going to see you again, but then there you were that night. Haven’t you ever wondered why I even entertained you when you came up to me at the bar that night? You know that’s pretty out of character for me. That I was only interested once you told me your name.” he chuckles, “I’ll admit I didn’t recognise you at first, apart from your name. But that morning I went straight to this drawer, and there you were, staring back at me.”

He hugs you again, pulls you to his chest so tightly it’s difficult to breathe. “Thank you for helping me back then. You have no idea how much I needed it. I spent so many years waiting for you, and then even more waiting for this to happen, so you would understand. When I saw what you were wearing this morning, I knew what was going to happen. Suddenly I saw you, perfectly in my mind’s eye, crashing through my door all those years ago.”

He buries his face into your neck and you stroke your hand across his back as he melts into your touch. There’s a moment where he pauses and then he’s sniffing deeply at your hair.

“You smell wrong,” he remarks, confused and he pulls back to look at you.

“Do you not remember?” she says softly, “that morning, this morning,” she laughs, “you triggered during the third round and -”

He cuts her off. “I claimed you and didn’t even realise. That explains,” he trails off.

“It’s fucked up huh? We’re both just one giant mess aren’t we?” You lean your head against his chest and sigh as he laughs. “I have a request Dante.”

“Anything.” 

“I’m itching like crazy right now, underneath my skin, from being pulled away from you, right after, you know. I feel, well I’m sure you can imagine, you would have gone through it too, back then.” Fuck you don’t even know what you’re trying to say. “Dante, just take me upstairs and fix my scent. Please.’

By the time you’ve realised what’s happened, Dante has picked you up and managed to get halfway up the stairs. 

“Jackpot Babe,” he grins and you know you’re probably not going to be walking for a few days. You had been surprised to learn that the Dante you were used to had more stamina than his younger counterpart. You think about that man that you said goodbye to this morning and the one in front of you right now. You wouldn’t trade him for the world, not for anything but you still wish you could have been there for him. You adjust yourself in his arms and feel the artifact still intact in your pocket. 

You’re struck with an amazing and terrible idea, but not left with any time to flesh out the details because there’s a hungry, horny devil mouthing insistently at your neck. He’s been waiting a long time and right now, he deserves all of your attention.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? Comments and Kudos Loved.
> 
> I’m already working on a sort of sequel for this fic. Based on the idea that poor young Dante asks our lovely reader to show him the absolute best night of his life - sexually of course - and after an embarrassing trip to the demonic sexual goods store, well let’s just say he’s not at all ready for what’s to come. Think ‘The Rose Avails’ and ‘Living on the Side of Sin’ combined and turned up to eleven! Let me know if there’s any kinks that you wanna see in that fic :P.


End file.
